


Swirls of Blue and Black

by Velvet_Concrete



Category: Ballum, EastEnders (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24463312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvet_Concrete/pseuds/Velvet_Concrete
Summary: Set before Callum comes out. Effectively yet another gentle scene filled with Callum's confused mindset.
Kudos: 15





	Swirls of Blue and Black

After his fourth pint in the span of just an hour, Callum finally began to let his guard down. When Jay had initially suggested, or demanded, that they both head over to the Vic after work, he had had reservations. He'd immediadly countered with his plans for a date night with Whitney but apparently a 'drink after work, just one, come on mate' had convinced him to head out. In truth, the pleading look from Jay was all it took. He was already aware of how he'd ruined the lives ofothers and just the thought of adding 'Jay' onto the list of those poor kids he'd robbed of a mother or his amazing Whitney or Chris he- 

He couldn't disapoint someone else.

Jay was opposite him now, rambling about the quality of some new TV show him and Lola had cuddled up and watched. Callum found himself nodding along to random names and the animated nature of Jay describing an apparently briliant scene. Even Mick had joined in, backing Jay up with a hand on his shoulder and a beaming smile at Callum that he hoped he relfected. But each smile or laugh was another scratch on his soul, chipping away with a newfound vengance fueled by nothing but his own denial and disgust.

Ever since he was a little kid, surrounded by anger of proud men that always knew how to peer briefly under his skin, close to finding a truth even Callum didn't know; that horrifying thought that kept him cold and breathless. It had taken years to become numb to it all, his foundations crumbled and continuously over looked. Everyone thought they understood him. Just a clueless boy who was an open window, utterly defencless, plain, easy to laugh at and use.

Callum wasn't, isn't, an idiot. He knew that even with his meticulous facade, hand crafted with a hint of love and smothered with fear, people had thoughts. All the anger and hatred that he found himself surrounded by was impossible to ignore. So, he'd learnt to ignore himself and what he wanted, shovelling thoughts, feelings, questions about the world and, most terryifingly, himself, deep, deep down,jamming the door closed, foot wedged and arms aching, closing his eyes and throwing  
away the key so far that he hoped it never existed. Here, in this boxed-in hut, was safety. 

Because when people believe something, they don't dig below the surface.

Eventually, he lost control. Each brick he'd laid of his defences soon towered above him, trapping him. Stuart's acceptance of his dozy little brother act had protected him. It had shielded him. It had taken Callum years to see through his self-made haze and realize Stuart's true nature. The irony wasn't lost on Callum.

That's what people do, Callum mused as he felt the effects of his drink, downing the remainder of his pint and standing on heavy legs as he gravitated towards the bar, they underestimate him. For as long as he could remember, all Callum had ever wanted was for people to forget he was there. He hated being the centre of attention. To live in the outskirts, although still nerve wracking, meant that he could breathe a little deeper.

That was his only mistake. Wanting to let go, just a moment. Callum had spent years in control only to throw it away as soon as he had come into his life. Callum was staring now, glaring at the hunched over figure next to Jay who'd continuously shot glance after glance towards him, lips curved in a harsh smile and eyes full of life and lies so tumbled together that a whole new way of life erupted from him. Ben Mitchell had become a constant threat to Callum's walls.

That's why as soon as Callum had heard his booming voice from behind him, he'd left Jay and stayed at the bar, pretending to buy another round of drinks. Callum shook his head, body tense as every hair stood on end as Ben slid into not only his safe, boring, dull life, but right up beside him. 

Callum kept his eyes trained onto the empty pint glass in front of him, watching the slow dribble of the remnants of condensation. He fixed, or fumbled with, his tie, pulling it down in what he hoped appeared a casual move and not one made to allow his breathing to ease as Ben's shoulder nudged his bicep, a tiny shiver seeping down his back, shattering yet another well-crafted wall.

So when Ben's pinkie finger wrapped around his, Callum willed the silence and serenity that washed over him to stay forever. It was a slow movement, testing waters already explored. Ben's cuff tighter and sharper than his own battered blazer. A faded bruise across his knuckles, swirling blue and blacks running above bone and veins and skin. Ben's skin. Nails bitten down and chipped. Ben's hand. Holding his own.

Callum realized he was staring now, fingers entwining with such tenderness that he couldn't dare break. 

It was only when Mick slapped his hands together with a merry smile that Callum crashed back down, ripping himself away, mumbling and twitching away, ignoring a cheeky rebuff from Ben directed at Mick, creating Callum a way out of this mess.

After a tiresome evening, Callum watched as Ben slinked out of the Vic. Callum only noticed he was too when he was holding him close in the dark of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who has read this. This is my first ever attempt at writing and releasing anything, actually the first story I've ever completed, so please point out any mistakes I've made. Please let me know what you think and any constructive criticism I'd welcome!
> 
> Thanks again,
> 
> Twitter: Velvet_Concrete


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